The times. (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, March 14, 1897, Image 9

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THE MOAJNTSTGr TIMES,. SXTJPAY, MACH 14, 1897Copyright, 1S97, by Richnid Linthicum.TART I.Tlie sheep were in the folds on themesa. The bronzed shepherds of El Ititobad eaten their tortillas and dull eon carne,etnoked their corn busk cigarettes, spreadtbeir Rolclions on the floors of their huts,devoutly Mid their prayers and gone tobleep.The faithrul sentinels that guarded thesheepfolds wore all sleeping, but with oneeye open and one ear cocked; no prowlingcoyote might hope to enter the loofcely constructed corral andsnatch a weak lambkin,for the scent of the sentinels was keen,their hearing acute, their courage abovesuspicion, and their intelligence but littlelees llisn human. Man is not so universally faithrul to his trust as is the bhepherddog.It was a night in early spring. Theheavens were radiant with stars. The airwas sofl, and laden with the fragrance ofthe sprouting s.ige. Each 6tar shone witha brilliancy that would have rivaled thatblazing forerunner or the seven wise menlighting the scene as fairly as would acre&ccuL moon in a less clear and tranquilatmosphere. And in this glorious starlight hovered the spirits of peace nnd content. Here were a people, patient in poverty, happy in ignorance and as pious aswere those amongst whom dwelt the Virgin that brought forth a Messiah.The mud rownoi LI rtttu .lsi darkness,save for a signle light that snone from awindow in the house of the good priest,Padre Uamon. It w.us 1 0 o'clock, sothere was none to see the light nor remarkPedro 1 red to ito-.se the UnconscioiiK Priest.the unseemly hour kept by the spiritualpaoLor or a flock as meek and gentle'-asthe wlute herds in the sheeprolds. Thegood priest was alone, he sac with bowedhead beside a table and pressed his handsagainst Ms brow. Tlieie was a look ofsuffering upon his handsome, clean-shavenface; his eyes, which had ever lookedwith gentleness upon ins people, werenow wide and glaring; he was as one illunto death. But Padre Ramon sufferedno physical ailment, he was ill mentally andbick at heart Nature had no herb; thealchemist no drug to calm his troubled mindor tlop the ache nithin his breast,Manuel Salazar (that was Padre Ramon'sname) was bom for the world; fate gavelam to the church. He had all the physicalgraces and manly accomplishments thatexcite the admiration and win the love ofwomen. His was a strong, passionate nature, but the fires of his blood were heldlu eneck by the cool currents or his mind.Twenty' j ears had passed since ManuelSulazar had presented himself to the provincial and craved admittance to the Society of Jesus: during those twenty yearsLoyola lind no more devoted dii-ciple.Mmiuei's Ucisre to be a Jesuit was not theresult of a devotional spirit, but rathertitathe i. igiit by lire service to the churchmid tin- holy ordei redeem himself from anexistence which fate had darkened andtaddened.When a youth of eighteen he was betrothed to Aicuria de Vargas, whosefather's large estate was adjacent to thator Manuel's father, in Southern New Mexico. She was in every respect worthy tobe his bride; she had youth, beauty andculture, and together with an only brothertwo years her senior would inherit theacres and vast herds of Don Antonio deVargas. Alcaraia's life had been livedoutside of towns and cities, so that herpurity had not been tarnished, nor her(Simplicity lessened by contact with aggregated humanity. Her ancestry dated backto the Conquest, and in her veins flowedthe sungre azul of Castile.The fc'alazars had nought of which tobe ashamed; their blood, also, was blueand their wealth great. Don Diego Salazar looked forward with pride to theunion that was to link his honored familyname with the ancient one of de Vargas,while Don Antonio regarded Manuel asthe must eligible of sons-in-law. The marriage was never celebrated.One evening a week previous to theJate set for the wedding, Manuel accompanied by Enrique de Vargas, Aleuria's brother, rode to the town nearby to complete sonic arrangements forthe approaching festivities. They separated early in the evening, making anagreement to meet at 0 o'clock in theplaza, where they had left their horses.Enrique was not there at the appointedtime. He had many friends in the town,and Manuel took it for granted that hehad been unavoidably detained by someof them. After waiting nearly au hour,Manuel went in search of his tardy companion. To all of his inquiries there wasthe same answer; no one had seen EnriqueMince early in the evening when he hadridden into town.Aianuel's woist fears were realized. Itwas midnight when he found EnriqueIn a gaming house. The youthful scion ofthe house of lc Vargas had the seat oflionor, opposite the dealer, while smallerplayers' ci owded around him. There wasa scowl on Enrique's flushed face as heplaced his money on a queen, the opposingcard being a jack. The monte dealer began to slowly draw the cards one by onefrom the pack in his hands. Eniique calledout each card as it fell upon the table;his voice was thick but defiant. It wasat once apparent to Manuel that Enriquewas drunk, and in an ugly mood; he hadbeen losing, and was exasperated almoatto madness."Jack." called the dealer, showing thecard, and taking the money Enriqne hadstaked."Show nie the queen," cried Enriqueangrily, as he arose and pushed backseveral of the players on either hand."There was a queen in the first layoutand it won; now show me the other one.""Does the scnor think" began thegambler, hut Enrique cut him short."Never mind what 1 think, show methe queen," said Enrique. His eyesglittered with rage and his attitude wasmenacing.Manuel made his way to the table andplaced one hand on Enrique's shoulder,"Eniique " he began.'You stand aside," commanded the enraged youth; "this is my affair' Thenturning to the gambler he almost shrieked,"Show me that queen or I'll cut yourheart out."A knire flashed in Enrique's right hand.The monte dealer threw the cards upon thefloor and grabbed a revolver lying Inan open drawer. Manuel sprang betweenthem and caught Enrique by the wrist asthe enraged youth made a lunge at thedealer.j "Enrique, what are you doing? Listen tome!" he said in au authoritative tone.De Vargas face was black with passion.He ex"rted his full strength and wrenchedj himself free. He struck out viciously nndthe blow fell upon Manuel's neck. A jittlestream of blood trickled down the injured man's shirt front, while from avein spouted a tiny crimson spray asperfumed waters are forced from atomizers"For the love of God, Enrique, stop; it isI , Manuel; seize him, some one,'' he called,as heretieated before the infuriated youth,who seemed bereft of all reason.In the moment of excitement the dealerhad slipped out through a side door; thecrowd fell back instead of closing in uponEnrique; no one had either the courage toseize him or attempt to check the assault.As Manuel retreated he placed a chairbetween himself and his pursuer, but Enrique flung it aside and advanced withuplifted knife."You cheat, you thief." nis voice waschoked with rage, and he gasped ratherthan uttered the words."Are you mad, Enrique? Don't you secthat It is I, Manuel?" cried the woundedman, as he sought some avenue of escapeor some means of checking Enrique's murderous advance. A small deal table wasnear by, and Manuel placed himself onthe side of it opposite his assailant. He fawthat rage and drink combined had maddened Enrique beyond the powerof reason. Toattempt to disarm him without Injury tooneor both seemed impossible, and Manuel'sonlv desire was to escape from the placeuntil Enrique should come to his senses.With this purpose in view he attempted tocircle around the table, expecting Enriqueco follow him, butinsteadof doing this 1'nrique with the supernatural strength bornof ragcleapod over the table. Manuel's onlychance to escape was gone; there was noplace for him to retreat except to a cornerof the long room.Again he called to Enrique to stop andthere was a warning tone In his voice.Rick in the far end of the dimly-lightedroom, where the spectators could notplainly see what took place, they clashed.The encounter lnsted but a moment andthis time it was Enrique who fell back.There was a gaping wound in his neck nearthe shoulder blade and his left handwas clasped to his side, Indicating that hehad received a second wound. He clutchedat the deal table for support as he steadiedhimself, Manuel passed him. Enrique'sexpression had undergone a completechange. His rage had reached its climaxin blows and reaction had set in. ne wascalmer and seemed to be dazed. He tossedhis knife backward over his head and itfell sticking upright in the floor."What is the matter?" he asked. "Whathave I done? Did I strike you, Manuel?"Across Manuel's right hand, in additionto the wound in his neck, was a streak ofred from which the blood flowed downhis fingers, mingling with that of Eniiqueon the blave of his knife, and drippingfrom the polnf.The spectators nervously gathered aroundthem, and one undertook a brief explanation. "Forgive me, brother," weakly gaspedEnrique. He tried to extend bis hand, butthe effort was too great. He reeled andwould have fallen, but Manuel, droppinghis knife, caught him and let him downgently to the floor.At the beginning of the affray one ofthe spectators ran for the sheriff. Hefound that official in company of n youngphysician, an American, and informedthem of what was taking place ia thesaloon.As Manuel bent over Enrique the sheriffand doctor entered the place.Manuel Caught Him nnd Let"Lo siento, bermano." tl am sorry,brother! came feebly from the lips of Enrique, and thea he fainted.While the doctor dressed the wounds ofthe unconscious man the sheriff made inquiries regarding the affair. All reportsagree that Manuel had but defended himbelf, and so the sheriff decided. "If Senorde Vargas should die," he said, "SenorSalaza will not run away."Manuel knelt beside the doctor as thelatter dressed Enrique's wounds, and thelittle stream of blood from the puncturedartery in his neck fell on the American'shands."Why, man, you'll bleed to death ifthat is not stopped," said the youngphysician. "Stand up here and let mefix it.""It's only a scratch," was the reply,"attend to him," pointing to Enrique.But tho doctor insisted and the spray1of blood was checked none too soon,for Manuel's face had become pallid andhiB limbs were getting weak."Some one should notify his people,"said the doctor, as he again gave his attention to the unconscious Enrique, "hemay recover and he may die.""I will tell them," said Manuel, "navehim taken to the hotel and I will let hispeople know."He bent over the prostrate man, andhis eyes filled with tears. Then hisemotion overcame him, and he kissedEnrique on the cheek. "My brother,my brother," he exclaimed in a chokedvoice as he arose, "Mother of God, sparehim." He walked with uncertain stepto the door, and then summoning all hisstrength, drew himself erect and steppedout onto the street.Some minutes after the doctor said, referring to Manuel: "He seems to be weak,and it is possible lie may not be able toreach home. Some of you men had betterride out and notify Dou Antonio of Whathas happened."Two Mexicans, who stood In great aweof Don Antonio, and yet were ever readyto serve him on account of his generosity,volunteered at once to get their horses.Manuel was weaker than he seemed to be.lie had lost a great deal of blood, nnd hefore he had leached the plaza, where hehad left his hors-e, he was obliged to sitdown rcveral times. When at least he hadreached the plaza, and while he was preparing to mount, two men passed him.Tlioy were talking of the alfray in tiiesaloon. It was too dalle for Manuel tosee their faces, but he could plainly hearwhat they said."That fellow Is going to die," said one."No hope for him," said the other, "hewas dying when we lelt the place. Ofcourse, the doctor didn't like to say so,ajmuammmntI - seesHis Voice Hose Almost to u. Sereuui,but anyone could see that he didn't haveany hope for the young fellow. He'll bedead berore Salazar can get to Don Antonio's ranch.""I wouldn't'.lkc to be in Salazar's place,"said the first speaker, "ir old Don Antonio don't shoot him, he'll get out hispeon and hang him."Manuel mounted his horse aud therestive broncho dashed off in the directionof home. The rider could not loug standthe rapid pace and it required all hisstrength to check the speed of the wirylittle beast. At the end of two milesManuel had become so weak that he fearedto allow the horse to proceed faster thana walk. At the end of the third mile hecould scarcely keep his seat in the saddle,and for tear that he would fall from hishorse he rode several paces off the roadand dismounted beside an acequla. Thetall grass that grew on the bank made asort and restful couch. He soon felt thathe was strong enough to resume theJourney; It was now but a short distance toDon Antonio's; the conversation of the twomen in the plaza recurred to him. Enriquewas dying, perhaps, and he was loiteriugby the wayside. He must up aud hurryon.A faint sound reached his ears from thewest the direction in which he was traveling the hoof-beats of a horse in a swiftHim Down Gently to the Floor.gallop then came another-three fourfive, until It became impossible for him totell the number. As they came nearer theswift gallop quickened into a mad race.Manuel raised his head as the horsemencame into sight; the leader of tho partyloudly urged his steed into a break-neckpace, and Manuel recognized the voice ofDon Antonio de Vargas. The well-nighexhausted man on the bank of the acequlamade an effort to hall them, but the clatterof hoofs drowned his weak voice as theold Don and twenty of his retainers rushedby in the darkness. Manuel could not seethe mingled look of anguish and hatred onthe face of Don Antonio, nor could he observe thatall the riders were heavily urmed.As they dashed by him he indistinctlyheard their voices in sharp, broken sentences But two words clearly reached hisears: "Enrique dead.''The noise of hoofs quickly died away onadH Magained5have ridden pursued by the phantoms of utorture-racked brain.Three years later a shepherd youth presented himself to "the Provincial of theSociety of Jesus aC Santa Fe, and soughtadmission to the order. He was vouchedtor by his parish priest, who told theaged head or Hie province that of all hisacquaintance, this youth, Ramon Sauchez,was the most devotional. Thus it wasthat Manuel Salazar, fleeing from theworld, closed upon himself the door of asacred retreat and felt that he was safe,not only for a time, but for eternity. Inthe brothers' college none was more studious,none more zealous that Ramon.At the end or the long and severe eourbeof training, the time came for Ramon to goback to the world. He returned to iteven more willingly than he had left It; allthe enthusiasm of his nature was aroused todo the will of God; he had lost a bride andfound a mother in the church. The woundin his heart had healed; the badness ofhis wot Idly sorrow had left him and helooked upon life as with new eyes andentered again into the affairs of theworld with a new and higher purpose.Padre Ramon was assigned to tho parishof El Rito among the class of people heloved a community of bhepherds, in thedregs of poverty without realization of ir,and consequently without the pangs thatcome to those who have nothing and desire much. And not gentler were these shepherds of four-footed flocks than was thisshepherd of men. He drew inspiration fromthcir.simple.uncomplaiuinglivcs, and" worein his easy shoe the four-leaf clover ofsweet content."Not quite a year had Padre Ramon beenat El Rito when he received a summonsfrom the provincial to come to Sante Fein haste. Padre harnessed the mules, andtogether he and the padie set out. It wasnight when they reached the city of HolyFaith. It was Pedro's first introductioninto life outside of the little collection ofmud huts lie called his native plaza, andhis attention was diverted from his mulesby even such poor sights as the countryyouth may see in the New Mexican capital.A ball was in progress in a house .several streets distant from the Provincial'sresidence, and as Pedro and his muleswere opposite the place the door of thehouse was suddenly opened to admit anew arrival. The mules were no moreused to urban sounds than Pedro was tourban sights, and as the discordant strainsof violins, guiturs and horns smote theirears than they plunged furiously to theother side of the street, one fore-wheelstruck a large rock, 'the vehicle was upset,and the frightened animals ran wildlytoward the center of the town. Pedro,an agile youth, niigh'ted on his feet, andhad sufficient presence of mind to thinkfirst of the padre. The good priest waslying upon his back, in the middle of theroad. ' ,"Are you hurt, padre?" anxiously inquired the boy; hut there was no response. Pedro tried to arouse the unconscious priest, but without success,and fearing that the good father had beeakilled he alarmed 'the dancers at theball. The padre was carried to the Jesuithospital near by.' Beside the injury to hishead, which had rendered him uuconscious, the priest had a dislocated .shoulder. It would be several days before hewould be out again.While Padre Ramon was under the influence of opiates bis shoulder was putin place, and he remained in a deep sleepfor several hours. When he awoke, anurse in the garb of a sister, was by hisbedside."The doctor said you were to drinkthis when you awakened," she said,passing him a cooling draught. "I willsend Sister Manuclla to dress the woundon your head."She went noiselessly from the room,and in a few moments Sister Manucllaentered. She carried a fresh bandagein her hand, whlch.she placed on a table,and then approached the bod."I am Sister Manuella," she said, "andI am come to dress the wound on yourhead. Does It give you much pain7"Padre Ramon was silent. His face wasaa white as the virgin sheet on which hethe sandy roadw Manuel exerted all hisstrength and gainedfhls feet. There wasan expression of horror on his face as hugazed after the horsemen.'Enrique dcadlVbeexclalmcd. Forsomominutes he stootf completely dazed leaningagainst his horse. His fiist Impulse wasto follow Don Antonio; then he thought ofAlcarla. She also knew that Enrique wasdead. He would go to her and comforther. No, she would not understand thather brother alone was responsible forthe tragedy; she would blame only Manuel,her lover, her betiotbed; in her eyes howould be a murderer. Emotional and passionate as she was by nature, in the firstburst of mingled grief and wrath her lovefor hira would perish, as tender vegetationshrivels and dies when touched by thehot breath of the Solano.Such were the thoughts of Manuel ashe put forth all his btrength and mountedids impatient broncho, which, obedient tothe guiding pressure of the rein againstits neck aad btung by the sharp barbs ofa spur, set off at a brisk gallop not in thedirection of Don Antonio's ranch, nor yetback to the town, but straight toward thehigh mesa to t honorth. II was with the feeling of a fugitive hotly pursued that Manuelurged on his horse; yet he was not rieeing from the law to defend one's lifeis not a crime; not from the wrath ofDon Antonio and the de Vargas kinsmenhisownkinsinen were equally numerous andpowerful but from her he loved best, andnow feared most in all the world Alcaria.He dared not look into her wet eyes andsee them flash with hatred when she beheldhim; he dared not touch her with handsstained with her brothers blood; withthe knife strokes that defended his lifehe alid slain her love and so he rodeon toward the north, as a madman mightLiay; his eyes were wide and staring;his lips moved without giving forth asound.Sister Manuella took a seat by tho bedaide, and stretched forth her hand toundo the bandage on his head."Alcuria," he gasped, "do you not knowme?"A long indrawn breath, the tremblingof lips and hands betoketied the agitationof the nun.1 "Manuel, is it you?" she asked In a faiatvoice, sweeter in cadence than he had everheard It."Oh, Alcarla, my lost ""Stop, padre; be quiet," came the injunction in a calm voice; "you must notexcite yourself; the doctor said that excitement might bring on delirium.""Do you not fear to touch me?""No.""Do you not hate me?""I never hated anyone," was tne calmreply. "You must be quiet while I remove the bandage," and her tremblingfingers touched the blood-stained cloththat bound the j-dre's head."You under.sta..J; you know that It wasbut to defend my life. I struck himdown him I loved us a brother killedhim""I fear for you padre," aid the gentlevoice as Manuella unwound the bandage;"the excitement is dangerous; be calmEnrique lives."With a violent motion that roughly toretiie bandage rrom his wound, which bledafresh, Padre Ramon sat upright in thebed; his voice rose almost to a scream ashe repeated the words: "Enrique lives;Mother of God, I thank Thee.He stretched upward his arms and fellback upon the pillow in a swoon.(To be concluded.)A HIT OF HISTORY.Germnntown, Pa., "VVan Onco thoCunltal of tho Country.A pupil in the boys' grammar school, onLafayette street, Germautown, was askedby his teacher this week "when the firstCongress occupied the Geraiantown Academy, located on West School lane?" It wasa puzzle, of course, to the young scholar,who was at a loss to and anything inprint verifying such an event. The facts,however, from wMt-r. the false inipressonhas frequently obtained are as follows:The Government or the United States wasfirst inaugurated in New York in 17S9, butby ace of Congress Philadelphia was madethe capital of the nation from 1790 until1800. In 1703 the yellow fever becameepidemic in this city, and it was in Octoberof that year that the governor or Pennsjlvauia asked tiie board or tiustees to accommodate the House of Atsembly, and asimilar request for quarters camefromCongress.At the November meeting following theboard proffered to Congress the choice ofthe school buildings, but there is no minuteevidence to show that Congress acceptedthe generous offer. At this time Wushiirglon resided in Germautown, and thetown was spoken of as the governmentplace of the State and also of the UnitedStates. Jefferson, then Secretary of State,and Randolph, Attorney General, occupiedthe building, some years ago torn downto extend the site on which the nationalbank now stands, at Main street andSchool lane. So, with Washington,Thomas Jcrfcrson and John Randolph residing In Germantown, it is not strangethat the conclusion should be formed thatCongress was In session-at the time. Although the Germantown academy neverhad the honor of accommodating Congress, a few years later, in 1793, whenthe yellow fever made its appearanceagain In this city, the hanks of NorthAmerica and of Pennsylvania did find atemporary place of safety in the oldacademy. Philadelphia Record.A CASE OF UI.UFF.Tills Fatal Spirit of Obstinacy Caused Two Men to He Snowed Under.The last three miles of the road leading up to the Alhnmhra mine ran throughDead Man's Gap, which was a nanowvalley In the mountains, and at leastonce every winter there was sure to bea snow slide which buried the trail fromten to twenty feet deep. We were goingup from Franklin City with the packmules, one day in January, when a Chinookwind was melting the snow, nnd in thenanow part of the valley we came acrosstwo men who had camped down withinten iodd of each other. They weic typicalmen of the border piopcctors, miners andhangers-on, but meeting them where wedid was such a surprise that the coloaelhalted to say:"You men must be more than fools tocamp down here. If there's a snow slideyou'll be buried twenty feet deep at thefirst rush.""Stranger." replied one of the men, ashe ran his eye up the mountain side, "I'vebin expectin' a snow slide every minitsince noon yisterday, but it's not fur mcto mnke the fust move. It's a game ofbluff betwixt me and that galoot overthar', and I won't give in to him.""Stranger," said the other man, as headvanced a pace or two, "I was comin'down this pass yisterday, when I metthat old critter goln' up. I was in a hurryto git along and so was he, but as we methe sorter grinned at me and kinder flungout that I was afeared. r lander flungback that no mortal varmint on the faceof this airth could bluff me, and he got offhis hoss and camped down."Seated in Thejr"And you followed suit?" queried thecolonel."I had to or chaw my words. He'san ole bjurfer, but he can't skeer me off.""As to bluffin'," said the other, "KillWharton, which Is me, has never bin outbluffed by anythlu' on two legs or four,and it's too late to begin to crawfish now.If that old galoot kin stand a snowslidehe'll find me right alongside of him to thebitter end.""You both realize the danger, do you?"asked the colonel. '"We do," they replied, in chorus."There's tens of thousands of tons ofmhii&P' sir. 1L9JTOPPORTUNITY-"NYLLA-VE5TIGTA-RLTR0K5YKBY - EPITfl - VTHQrlAS"There is a nest of thrushes in the glen;When we come back we'll see the gladyoung things,"He said. We came not by that way agaln;Aud Time and thrushes faro on eagerwings."You rose" she smiled "but no; whenwe leturnI'll pluck it then." 'Twas on a summerday.The ashes of the rose in Autumn's urnLie hidden well. We came not backthat way.We do not.pabs the selfsame way again,O r, passing by that way, no thing we findsnow up there ready to fall and bury thispasal""Jest so," replied No. 1 , "but 1 kin sotycre as long us he kin.'"And I'll see it out if It takes all winter,"added the other.The colonel argued and appealed, butneither would be the first to give way.They had gone in for, a game of bluff, andtheir pride was at stake. When it wasseen that talking would do no good, werode on and left them, and, looking baokat the next turn of the trail, we saw themseated In tlieir blankets facing each otherand waiting for a sign of weakness.A mile higher up the pack-saddle of oneof the mules turned, and the animal floundered about and went off thepath and downthe slope. A great mass of snow wentwith him, and in a minute a 6lide wasstarted. Away it went, booming, spreading out and gathering force every second,and while we stood looking on there wasarumbhngasof thunder.a crash that couldbe heard for miles, and Dead Man's Passwas filled from end to end with snow androcks and splintered trees."Bluffm' is all right wnen you are bluff inagin a man," said the colonel, as we iodeon, "but when it comes to bluffin a snowslide. Jest count me out and call me acrawfish."A Fight Between Gentlemen.MILLIONS IN" PArNTTNG.Tho Hertford-Wallace Collection IsWorth $7,300,000.The celebrated Hertford-Wallace collection of pictures bequeathed to theBritish nation by Lady Wallace is estimated to be worth $7,300,000. Hermagnanimity, says the Boston Transcript,is all the more noteworthy because shewas struck off the queen's visiting listmany years ago.Sir Richard Wallace died on July 20,1S90, leaving behind him the most famous art collection of any Englishman.The whole of Sir Richard's great wealthand the peerless collection of pictures,which includes nineteen examples ofMeissonier and fifteen of Greuze, weregiven to his wife for her own free disposition. Prior to his death, however, he expressed his wishes to liis wife that afterher death his superb collection of works ofart should go to England's national gallery, and that his wish in this respect shouldHlunkets.be carried out she arranged several yearsago.The magnificent Hertford collectioncomprised, when it passed into Sir ItichardWallace's hands, a splendid assortment ofpaintings, porcelains, bronzes, decorativefurniture, jewelry, and other works ofart. His own purchases during thepast thirty years included many of thechoicest examples of old Japanese art,which he was one of the first to bring tothe attention of European connoisseurs;of the masters of the Italian -Renaissance,notable the productions la silver of Benventuno Celiul and his immediate followers, and of modern French painters..mKK-Asit before had been, but dearta. or stain.Hath come uponit, or the wasteful wind-The very earth is envious, and her annaReach for the beauty that detained oureyes;Yea, It is lost beyond the aid of charms.If, once within our grasp, we leave theprize!Thou traveler to the unknown ocean'sbrink.Through Life's fair fields say not, "Another dayThl3 joy I'll prove;" for never, aa Ithink.Never shall we come back this selfsameway'. EDITH M. THOMAS.A GENTKET. AFFAIR.How ilr. Scott Met a StrangerXamed Richards.One day a stranger came Into our campat Yuba Bend, and after looking about forawhile he approached a miner named Scottand bowed aad smiled, and Inquired:"Kin you inform me If thar' is a gentleman in this yere camp a reg'lar gentleman?" "Thar be," promptly replied Mr- Scott,as he drew himself up-"I'm glad to h'ar it. I'm from the campdown at Dead Hill. They told me down,thar that I couldn't find a gentleman uphere.""And who be yo'r demanded Scott-Tm a gentleman, sah a reg'lar gentleman, and I'm delighted to meet yoMy cognumen Is Richards. As a gentlemanyou must know the meaning of the word'cognomen. ""In course I do," replied Scott, who hadnever heard the word before in his life."Hev yo' any pertickler objecfc In view?""I hev. As a gentleman I woald hkato hex- a little scrimmage with anothergentleman. Yo'Jiev said yo was a gentleman, and I'm gentleman 'nuff to takayo'r word fur it.""Want a scrimmage, eh?""I do. an' if yo kin accommodate maI shall feel mighty obleeged."Scott had had a dozen different rows iacamp and always came off firat best, aadthe idea of a scrap with a stranger struckhim favorably. He thought the matter overfor a minute, and then said:"I don't s"e no objeck.ibuns to a scrimmage, beia' asyo' ar hankeria arterone.but as a gentleman spe5kin to anothergentleman it is my dooty to ware ye thatI'm a powerful fighter.""That's lovely of yo," smiled the stranger. "On my part I must warn yo' thas1 snalflick ye outer yer butes Inside ofthree minits. Gentlemen should alwayshev" a far understandm in advance.""Would it be agin the manners of agentlemen if I called ye a bluffer?" askedScott, as he began peeling off."Not under the sarcurastances," repliedthe stranger. "I was je3t about to obsarve that ye was a duffer, aa' I hopaye'll take no offense.""None at all, but ye ar a blamedliar!""Thanks, and ye ar the samet I willnow divest myself of my apparel and pulverize ye like n gentleman.""I'm ready 1"We talked about the fight for monthsafterward. The two came together andheaved and struggled for a minute, andthe stranger broke away and gave Mr.Scott a rap on the jaw whleh sent himto grass and put him to sleep at the samatime. It was over In no time, and thestranger bowed and smiled right and leftand said to the camp:"Give the entleiuan my comnlanentswhen he wakes up, and tell him that Ihope thar will be no hard feelln's. I'min a bit of a hurry or I'd stop and tellhim mysclr. As a gentleman I bid yo'good day."He was half a mile a way when Mr. Scottopened his eyes and wanted to know whathad happened."Ye've bin licked," repHedone of theboys.-Who did it?""A feller as said he was a gentiemaaandyo' was another.""Yas, I remember, and durn his hide."groaned the man, as he sat up and held hisjaw. "Say, now, the, next time a fellercomes along here and wants to know Ifwe've got a gentleman in camp ye jistholler and let me hide among the rocks, furI've gone outer the bizness to stay."America's Great Crop of Hay.Theproductionof Anierioanhayamountedto 65,000,000 tons in 1803, 33,000,000tons in 1S94,-47,000,000 tons-in ISOuand13,000,000 tons in 1896. In other words,the production of hay has declined onethird in four years, and there has been aconsiderable, though not correspondinglylarge, decline In the market value of thecropdttrlngthefouryearssucceedingl892.Pittsburg Dispatch.This Cat Goes HuntiDg.There Is a cat that goes hunting atHoisiagton, Kan., It makes Its home inthe roundhouse, where a railroad manplaced It to get warm one day when hefound it half frozen in the street. Themen made a practice of shooting birdsfor it, and now the cat will follow for amile or more any man who carries a gun,nnd at sound of a shot will run for thobird. Indianapolis News.